


Camaraderie

by TheTurtleFromHell



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Rescue Missions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 22:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTurtleFromHell/pseuds/TheTurtleFromHell
Summary: “So… you’re here to kill me?”





	Camaraderie

“Damn human, can’t you work any faster!?”   
  
Isaac paused when a deep, growling voice echoed through the halls. Yes, now he was certain he was heading in the right direction. Breaking into Carmilla’s castle had been all too easy. Her troops were in disarray after the failed attack on Dracula’s castle, so it was only a matter of creating creatures that could break through the main walls. 

From there, it was just the issue of battling a few vampire soldiers here and there. He continued further down the long corridors, knife in hand as he descended deeper into the bowels of the fort.   
  
“You have one job, do it, and do it right!” the voice resumes, this time followed by a loud smack. 

“I… I’m doing my best…” another familiar, more timid voice, tries to explain, “I can only do so much with what I have-”   
**_SMACK!_ **   
“You do as you’re told, you vile thing, and you were told to make soldiers as quickly as you could!”   
The door from which the voices come from finally comes into view, and Isaac presses himself beside it, knife at the ready. His hand tightens around the handle as he hears more sounds of his comrade getting beaten around, glass shattering, cries of pain and pitiful begs to stop, and what sounds like something wooden being snapped in half. It was enough to make Isaac almost wince.   
“Get up. By the time I come back the order better be complete.” the voice says, followed by the sound of metallic footsteps coming up stairs.   
When the door opened, Isaac sprung his attack.   
  


* * *

 

He needed to get this done.    
If he just ignored the throbbing pain, the ringing in his ears, the tears running down his cheeks, he could get it done. He pounded the blacksmith hammer against the metal table as steady as he could, hands struggling to keep a grip on the wooden handle.   
He could do this, he was strong. He could endure the pain, he could work with the meager tools, he could ignore the screaming from the other side of the door and-

Wait a second…

Turning and looking towards the noises, he was able to make out the sounds of a struggle, of metal striking metal. As much as he would love pressing his ear to the door to figure out what was going on, the collar around his neck kept him tethered to the table. 

More voices join the commotion,

_ “Carmilla wants him alive!” _

_ “The knife, get the knife out of his hands!” _

_ “Give up human, you’re surrounded!” _

Human? A human is causing all this trouble? One with a knife?

Oh… so Isaac was alive, huh? He knows he shouldn’t be surprised as he is, but after witnessing what happened to the castle, he hadn’t truly expected Isaac to survive that.

But apparently he did, and now, he was here, and Hector knew why. Betrayal was an unforgivable crime, and now he was going to be punished for it. 

At least it meant he’d no longer be in pain.

As the sounds of fighting die down, Hector tucks his hammer away in his belt, vaguely trying to think of his final words, though his thoughts linger on the question of what Isaac would do with his body.

The door opens.

 

Isaac can barely recognize the man who had worked by his side for so long. Hector looks absolutely haggard, and it nearly causes him to take a step back. He’s skinny, a red uniform loose around his small frame. When Hector turns to him, it’s even worse. Every spot on his face not covered with a cut or bruise, the skin is either scabbed or scarred. His eyes look empty, hollow, no trace of that twinkling optimism which used to shine in them.

“So… you’re here to kill me?” he asks, sounding rather resigned to it. Isaac can’t blame him for preferring death over his current situation.   
Isaac says nothing, instead raising his knife.   
Hector shuts his eyes tightly, holding his breath… until he feels Isaac’s blade working at the collar’s hinges rather than his skin.

As the shackles clatter to the floor, he stares at him in disbelief, “But… why?” 

Isaac observes the bruising the device left on Hector’s pale skin, before giving his answer, “It was his wish…” he says as he takes his hands, giving his a soft, reassuring smile, “For us to be... friends.”   
Hector stares at him in stunned silence, “...Are you sure you’re not secretly telling jokes all the time?”   
Isaac chuckles, “Still not joking.” he says, tightening his grip Hector’s hand. He leads him out of the room and guiding him through the halls, past carnage and gore. Most of it is from the bodies of Carmilla’s own soldiers, but some bodies were that of night creatures. The sounds of battles could still be heard around them, as Isaac pressed both himself and Hector along the wall as to not draw any attention to themselves. A loud, shrill scream caused Hector to whip around, just in time to see another soldier fall to the jaws of a large beast, presumably one that did most of the damage. It caught sight of them, staring and growling. Isaac stepped in front of Hector, standing tall. It stared just another moment, before it snorted and quickly ran out of sight. So, Isaac had taken the time to bond the creatures to himself? How long had he been preparing for this? He was so lost in the daze of his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Isaac pulling him along once more, until warm air hit his skin, causing his wounds to sting so badly that he cried out.   
Just as they were about to leave the grounds, a laugh came from behind them, “Aw, is the puppy trying to get out of the gate?”

 

Hector froze, a chill running up his spine.   
Frowning, Isaac looked to the vampire lord, “Carmilla.”   
“Isaac, what a wonderful surprise!” she clasps her hands behind her back, “I’ll be able to get so much more work done with  _ two _ forgemasters chained to my side.”

“We are leaving. Whether or not you want to make it out of this alive is up to you.” he replies matter of factly.

Carmilla’s eyes narrowed, but her smile remained, “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I am warning you.”

She laughs, cackling as if she had just heard the funniest joke in Wallachia, then suddenly raises a fist into the air. Hector immediately shrieked and recoiled, throwing his hands up in defense as Carmilla took great pleasure in his pain.

“See Isaac? He knows his place, don’t you Hector?” she coos, “I’d say I’m a much better master than Dracula ever was.”   
At those words, Isaac tenses, the words wearing his patience thin, “Wrong.” he glares, “A leader who rules with her fists instead of the respect of her underlings is no leader at all. You’ll see just how quickly your subjects turn on you once I cut off your hands.”

Carmilla flips her hair, “I’d love to see you try.”

“Stay back.” Isaac says to Hector tersely, unsheathing his knife and lunging forward. 

Carmilla steps to the side, causing Isaac to have to readjust his footing. He knows she’s expecting him to go for the chest, so instead, he tries to go for her arms and shoulders, knowing if he can catch her off guard, he’ll have the upperhand.

But unlike with Godbrand, he doesn’t have the element of surprise. Carmilla successfully dodges each of his strikes, dancing around him like the finest of ballroom dancers.

Until she slaps him across the face, claws raking through his skin. Blood falls into his eyes, blinding him, and before he can even raise a hand to wipe it away, the wind is knocked out of him.

 

Isaac gasps, lung burning, unable to tell which direction he’s facing until he feels a weight on his stomach, cold hands wrapping around his throat and crushing his windpipe. He gasps for air, trying to get his knife to sink into something, anything, but everything is going blurry and black, his head feels like it’s floating.

 

Then suddenly, the weight is gone.

He coughs and turns onto his hands and knees, tremors wracking his body as he takes big gulps of air. He feels a pair of hands grabs his shoulders, rubbing gently, “Isaac, Isaac are you okay?” 

“Hector…” he wheezes, looking up at him. Hector is covered in fresh blood, bits of flesh and tissue stuck to his skin and hair. He blinks, “Hector… where’s Carmilla?”

He motions to the left with a shaking, bloody hand, and Isaac looks to see Carmilla with a hammer sticking out of what can only be described as a caved in mess, all that remains of her face.

 

* * *

 

“Stay still.” Isaac said calmly as he carefully applied the last of the salve, feeling Hector tremble under his touch.   
“I’m sorry…” Hector murmurs, wincing as the salve stings the open cuts on his back. The cottage Isaac had brought him too was small, fully stocked, but not with items Hector would imagine Isaac to own or be interested in, which means someone else had to have been here.   
He decides not to ask what happened to the previous owners.   
Isaac puts the empty tin down, standing and walking to the small kitchen area, “I think I saw some gruel around earlier.”   
“Oh God, no.” Hector says reflexively, shivering, “I’ll truly be sick if I have to eat another bowl of that shit.”   
“Another?” Isaac cocks a brow and looks back to him.

“It’s all I’ve been eating for the last few months…” Hector murmurs, shifting uncomfortably as he recalls the meals, bitter, half-spoiled and covered in mold. He hopes he’s never that hungry again that he’d be willing to eat the stuff.   
“No wonder.” he hears Isaac hum in thought.

“No wonder what?”   
“You’re so skinny. You’re malnourished.” Isaac says, shortly followed by the sound of things being pushed aside, “I’ll see what else we have then, if that’s the case.”   
  
This all feels so… strange. He wasn’t so surprised that Isaac came and rescued him. They were fellow Devil Forgemasters, the only of their kind, and they only had each other. 

But to have the man doting over him, bandaging his wounds and feeding him, actually expressing something other than sass or disdain for humanity?

 

“I found some rabbit. We’ll have that.” Isaac said as he stood up, holding up the meat for Hector to see. It was so heavily salted that Hector could see the crystals shining in the candlelight, but at this point, who was he to complain?

 

As the smell of sizzling meat fills the air, so does silence. Isaac pulls out a stool from under the kitchen table and sits, hands folded neatly, as he stares off into a corner. Hector would never describe it as an empty gaze, for there was alway something behind those eyes, always a thought or invisible conversation the man was having with himself, so intense that Hector felt he could actually hear the man’s thoughts if he looked deep enough into those eyes.

“Something wrong?” he hears Isaac ask, snapping him out of his trance.

Hector feels his face heating up and turns away, trying to hide his blush, “Nothing.”

Isaac looks suspicious, but says nothing as he stands, checking on the meat before plating it and handing a portion to Hector, and returns to the table. Hector picks up a piece and pops it into his mouth, chewing it for a long while. The taste of it is... everything is... so very overwhelming.

 

Isaac can’t say he’s enjoying the meal, but it’s certainly not complaint worthy. Just as he’s patting himself on the back for doing the best with what he had, his meal is interrupted by muffled cries. He looks to see Hector practically shoving bite after bite into his mouth, nearly choking on it as he sobs.

“Hector!” Isaac gasps, the chair banging against the floor as he stands and runs to Hector’s side, “Hector! What are you doing!?” he shouts, grabbing the man by the wrists and shaking him.

Hector buries his face in his hands, wailing. Isaac stares, unsure of what to make of this. Had Hector lost his mind? Had it rotted and broken in his months of captivity? 

 

Had he been too late?

 

Isaac sighs, unthinkingly placing a hand on Hector’s back as he thinks about his potential failure. Doing so seems to flip a switch in the younger man, causing suddenly grab Issac, who immediately tensed, ready to throw the man off of him for fear he went mad. Instead, he found Hector hugging him tightly and sobbing into his shoulder.

That… didn’t help him to feel less tense, but it did help him to understand what was wrong with Hector.

 

Hector needed touch. He needed gentle praise and reassuring touches, he knew because he had seen Dracula run a hand through Hector’s hair, pat his shoulder and rub his hand up and down his back when Hector was particularly frustrated or upset over something. Hector even had a habit of touching others when he felt the need to, touching Isaac’s shoulder, cuddling with his pets, even going as far as going to Dracula, placing a hand on his forearm or lightly brushing against him (Dracula was a good master, he never seemed to mind). Denying him such things was just as bad as denying him food or water.

 

Isaac took a deep breath, unsure of how to proceed. He never laid hands on anyone unless he was killing them. Touch was supposed to be an instinctual thing, right? Something bred into every human from the moment they were born and cried for their mother’s touch, to the moment they were old and dying and reaching out to their loved ones. He had known how to be human once, long ago, but he had locked that vulnerable, soft part of himself away. Just his luck he needed it now.

Thinking of how Dracula used to do it, he gently placed his hands on Hector’s back, rubbing one of them up and down his spine. He heard Hector take a shuddering breath, was that good or bad? Was there something else he had to do?

He moves his hand up to Hector’s head to stroke his head, trying not to snag his finger on the knots.

 

Hector leans into his touch still sniffling and breathing heavily-

No, wait… was he… laughing?

Baffled, Isaac pulled back to find Hector with tears still running down his cheeks, this time from laughter. 

“You-You’re so bad at this!” he howled, holding his sides as he nearly doubled over.

Isaac blinked at him, before sighing, “Well, at least you’re feeling better.”

“I’m sorry.” he pants, wiping at his tears as he tries to catch his breath, “It’s very… touching, I appreciate the gestures more than you can imagine.”   
Isaac crosses his arms, “Well, you may not think me good at it, but I know someone who is.”

 

Hector watches in confusion as Isaac stands and leaves, wondering if he had offended the man. He felt the familiar heavy weight of shame settle in his lower gut, scolding himself for coming across so unappreciative as tears stung at his eyes.

 

Then he heard a bark, and looked up to see Isaac holding little Cezar in his arms.

 

“Cezar!?” he gasps as Isaac drops the pug onto the bed, embracing him as he runs up and licks his master all over his face, “How did-!? I thought you’d-!” he can barely speak through the tears of joy, laughing happily as he presses his face into the soft, black fur.

“It’s a long story.” Isaac says as if reading Hector’s mind, sitting back down on the edge of the bed.

“Oh Isaac… ” he sniffles, “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I wish…” he wipes at his tears, “I wish I could express how grateful I am, but I feel if I did, we’d be sitting here for eternity.”

“You can show me your thanks by sleeping.” Isaac smoothes out a wrinkle in the blanket, “I’ll be the first to admit Cezar can help you relax far better than I can.”

Hector nods, “Well, yes-”

“I’ll be heading to bed as well then.” he stands up to leave.

For a moment there is no reply, but then, Hector responded in a small voice, “Well, goodnight then.”

Isaac turns to him and nods in acknowledgement, “Goodnight to you too.” he says before continuing to the master bedroom, where the bloodstains of the elderly couple who had owned the house still stain the floor, to which he pays no attention to as he undresses and goes to bed.

 

* * *

 

Isaac sighs as the smell of bacon hits him, rubbing his eyes. His entire body is sore from yesterdays ordeal, begging to stay in bed another hour or two.

But if there’s one thing Isaac knows, it’s pain, and he’s able to sit up without further aggravating anything. He knows how to stretch to make sure the muscles won’t become tense from inactivity, and at the same time speed up the healing process.

 

He grabs his tunic, half-way through buttoning in up before realizing something.

Who the hell is cooking bacon?

 

Opening the door, Isaac nearly trips over Cezar, who runs and bounces around his feet yipping excitedly, which alerts his master.

“Good morning.” Hector says without looking up from the pan, wearing nothing but his pants. Isaac can’t help but notice that he already looks so much better despite still being bruised and cut.

“You’re healing up rather nice.” he comments, taking extra care with his steps at the undead pug continues to walk by his side, “Still, you should be resting. You may feel better, but the body takes it’s time, unlike the mind.”

Hector huffs out a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”

“My body is a special case.” he crosses his arms, looking displeased in an amusing kind of way.

“In any case, I’m not doing this because I’m oblivious to my condition. I simply hate being so… needy.”

Isaac chuckled, “Only you could think having your injuries being treated and having the barest of a meal as being needy.”

“I’m well aware.” Hector joined in his laughter, “Perhaps I’ve forgotten my manners in the last few months.” he half jokes.

Isaac isn’t sure what to say to that, so he simply changes the subject, “Where did you find the meat?”

“Out in the shed. I think it was there so the cold would preserve it.” Hector muses as he plates the food, “I think I burned a few pieces, I don’t work as well with a stove as I do with magic.”

“Looks just fine to me.” Isaac says, taking a bite as if to prove his point. Hector beams at that, like a little kid getting praise.

 

“So…” Hector begins, “Where do we go from here?” he asks, tossing a piece of bacon to Cezar.

“Dracula’s death has started numerous battles by vampires who wish to take his place.” Isaac explains, munching on another piece of bacon, “With Carmilla’s death, it will explode into an all out war. They’ll need as many advantages as possible, and where do you think that leaves us?”

Hector looks away, a cold chill running up his spine as he remembers Carmilla’s words, “I’m all too aware of what they want with us…”   
“I would say staying in hiding would be the best option.” Isaac says, “No forgemaking, no interaction with anyone, likely for the rest of my life.”

Hector blinks, “Your life?”

Isaac looks him dead in the eyes, so intense that Hector feels them burning into his skull, “You are an adult. I can ask you to stay with me, but ultimately, the choice is yours. So what will it be, Hector?”

They stare at each other for a moment, before Hector bends down, picking up Cezar and petting his head, “To clarify, you’re asking me to stay with you in the country for the rest of our days, living an ordinary life?” he hums, not looking up.

Isaac nods, “Yes.”

 

Hector meets his gaze again, smiling happily, “I would love nothing more.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by this wonderful person and their art feat. the bois!!! http://fuocogo.tumblr.com/post/179535871742/rolls-up-sleeves-ill-fix-it-myself  
> go and give them love.
> 
> that being said, if s3 doesn't end with these two living in the county with their dead pets and being happy, i will riot. hope you enjoyed this fic as much as i did writing it!! ^^


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